


should old acquaintance be forgot, I will love you til the day I die

by Skyson



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M, First Kiss, First Time, Future Fic, Hockey, Home, Ice Skating, Kissing, Lifetime Movie Tropes, Secret Relationship, Sneaking Out, Song Inspired, Winter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-18
Updated: 2015-12-18
Packaged: 2018-05-07 08:48:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5450615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skyson/pseuds/Skyson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Daisy and Coulson haven't seen one another in over a year, until one day she recieves a message from him. So she sneaks off base for a little road trip.</p>
            </blockquote>





	should old acquaintance be forgot, I will love you til the day I die

**Author's Note:**

> I listened to this song as I wrote this one: "This Love Won't Break Your Heart" by Annalise Emerick  
> https://open.spotify.com/track/0rKjJB90TZ62o8npz8QEn3

Daisy stepped into the arena, quickly ascertaining that it was empty, other than Phil Coulson himself, who was out on the ice. Nets were still up at either end of the rink, leftover from some hockey practice earlier that day. She approached the open gate but didn't step onto the ice - not in her combat boots. She'd fall flat on her ass, and that wasn't a good impression to give someone after seeing them for the first time in sixteen months. She knew that he knew she was there, but he didn't immediately say anything, just continued skating in slow, wide circles. He had a hockey stick in his hand, dragging it along the ice, occasionally maneuvering it as if he were imagining he was passing a puck, or taking a shot.

"Didn't your dad coach football?" She called out eventually, wanting to get the conversation started. It was chilly in here, and her sweater would only keep her warm for so long. Finally, he looked up and met her eyes, skated his way toward her.

"That was a part of the reason I chose hockey," Coulson revealed, coming to a smooth stop just in front of the gate. "And, I ended up being better at it." He stood the stick up on end and leaned on it slightly as she looked him up and down. He was wearing dark jeans, a black peacoat, a dark purple scarf, and black hockey skates. He had a thick, clean-cut beard adorning his face, and from what she could tell underneath it all he seemed to be in good condition. There was a spark in his eyes with his pleasure at seeing her, but it was obvious that his face wasn't used to expressing positive emotion.

"Why here?" Daisy wondered, glad she'd nabbed her pink beanie on her way off of base. She tugged it down a little more firmly around her ears, and Coulson almost looked like he was smiling at it as he reached out to brush his finger against the knitting.

"I remember this one..." He mused, his smile falling away as his hand dropped to his side. "This is where I've been for the past three months or so," he revealed. She didn't hide her surprise.

"You stayed in one place for that long? And _here_ of all places?" He shrugged ruefully.

"It's too obvious for me to come back to my hometown, isn't it? I knew May would think I'd never risk returning."

"I guess once we're done here, you're off again huh?" Daisy couldn't help but be a little sorry. Coulson shook his head and gave her a look like she should know better than to feel bad about that.

"I wouldn't have called you here if I wasn't ready to be someplace else." He pursed his lips, then twisted the hockey stick around to set the blade on the ice again, and reached out toward her with his free hand. "Come on."

" _What_." Daisy stared at his outstretched hand. He wiggled his fingers impatiently.

"Come on."

"I don't have skates," she protested, and he rolled his eyes. He moved toward her and she took a step back, and he stepped out onto the padded concrete and around down one of the aisles of seats. Just two seats in, he knelt over to pick up another pair of skates, holding them up expectantly. She frowned at him. "Have you _planned_ this?" She demanded, and he snorted as he walked carefully back toward her.

"I did invite you to an _ice rink_." He stood there holding the skates toward her, forcing her to take them from him lest they stand there all night staring at one another. She huffed as she sat down into a seat to unlace her boots. "Those are hockey skates, so the brakes are on the back," he threw the words over his shoulder as he stepped back onto the ice, moving toward one of the team benches.

"I swear to God," Daisy warned as she shakily got to her feet once she had the skates on, "if Celine Dion starts playing..." Coulson's snort this time sounded a little closer to a real laugh,

"Definitely not something you have to worry about."

It had been quite a while since she'd ice-skated before, so she stayed near the wall for a few minutes as she recalled how this was supposed to work.

"Do you know how to skate?" Coulson wondered, not unkindly as he skated out with a large bucket in his other hand.

"Yes, why, were you planning on wooing me by holding my hand and dragging me around the rink?" She snarked, not liking that she didn't know what was going on here. Mack had warned her, when she'd let him know that Coulson had contacted her and that he wanted to meet with her (and only her), that he might try to play her. Everyone knew she was the last person who would ever give up on him; the first person to listen to his theories and opinions, and actually consider them. Mack was the only one who knew that Coulson had reached out to her, and was the only one who knew she was meeting him. What Mack didn't know was her specific location, and he wouldn't send an extraction or backup. She was completely on her own.

Not that she _worried_ being on her own around Coulson... It was weird, sure, but he couldn't have changed _that_ much.

"Daisy, relax," Coulson sighed, setting the bucket about sixty feet or so from the net on her side of the rink. "I wanted to talk. And to be honest, I wasn't certain that you would come alone, so I didn't want to meet where I'm staying. _And_ this is the time I have the rink reserved every night, so, this is how it worked out." He tipped the bucket onto its side, spilling out a bunch of pucks. Daisy blinked as she watched him pull one away from the rest and hit it back and forth between his stick, feeling a bit guilty that she was so suspicious of him. Then again...

"Well, how the hell should I know what you're thinking? I haven't seen you - haven't heard a _word_ from you in sixteen months." She pointed out, gathering her courage and skating away from the wall. She slowly started feeling familiar on the ice once again, and her movements smoothed out.

"I needed the space," Coulson replied evenly, though he looked apologetic. Daisy waved her hand dismissively as she approached him, gingerly lifting her toe to brake.

"Of course. And we gave it to you." She glanced back up at him when she made sure she wasn't going to run over any pucks. "At least, I gave it to you. I honestly have no idea about Mack, or May. I know they wanted to keep tabs on you, but..."

"May followed me around for the first two months, probably kept me out of a lot of trouble." Coulson admitted, slapping the puck he'd been playing with toward the net. It went in just inside the top left corner, and Skye raised her eyebrows, a bit impressed. "Those days were mostly me sleeping and drinking. I don't remember every detail, but I believe there were a lot of bar fights I probably should have lost, or gotten myself pretty hurt... I just remember waking up the next morning in whatever motel I'd been staying at, May's voice in my head telling me what an idiot I was being." He gave her a wry look. "Fondly, of course. You know May."

"That explains her odd hours..." Daisy mused, watching as he pulled another puck from the pile, twisting the hockey stick around to keep in control of it.

"I stopped drinking as much, stopped staying in the bars until two or three in the morning. Not long after that, she either upped her game or she stopped tailing me. Even still, I never stayed in the same place for more than a week at a time." He hit the puck and missed the goal. "I kept thinking that Mack was going to bring me in, question me about what happened on that planet, lock me up for..."

"Coulson," Daisy interrupted, "Fitz told us what happened. You saved his life."

"Did he?" Coulson asked, his expression suddenly haunted, and it made a chill run down her spine. "Is that what he said?"

He slapped hard at another puck, and it rang off of the side bar of the goal with a clang, bouncing off the glass and sliding down toward the other side of the rink. Daisy blinked at him, realized that she had clenched her fists and tensed her body in preparation for, something, and slowly relaxed. Coulson released a steady breath.

"Sorry. I'm working on my temper." He apologized, looking more frustrated at himself than anything else.

"Better than me losing _my_ temper," she pointed out, and his laugh once again sounded more like surprise than amusement.

"I'm doing better. I feel good, better than I have in a long time, honestly." Coulson told her, and she smiled at him.

"Throwing the reins at Mack must've been a relief," She mused, and he winced.

"Is he still pissed about that?" He asked, scooping another puck and flinging it into the net almost leisurely. Skye shook her head.

"Nah, he has May helping him out, and he's settled into the swing of things pretty well. He makes a good Director," Daisy told him, approving of his choice.

"Better than me?" Coulson asked, and she shrugged, skating slowly around to his other side.

"In some ways." She replied easily, simply, and Coulson nodded.

"I've always appreciated your candidness, you know." He told her, and she gave him a little smile, watching openly as he batted another puck around.

"Did you have to relearn all this? With the new hand?" She asked curiously, and he nodded.

"Some of it. I've got the hang of it now, and it's not too much different since my right hand is the one doing most of the work." He stood the stick up on the toe of the blade, pointing out to her how he was holding it. "My left hand is mostly here for extra support, and power and focus when I'm shooting or passing. My right hand controls the majority of the movement." She nodded along as he explained, and he hesitated for a moment before adding, "Have you ever played? Would you like to try?"

"One of my foster brothers played, but it was 'a boys sport'. Both of his parents insisted I stick to just skating." She shrugged, and Coulson frowned.

"We had a few girls on the team I was in when we won the league championship. And they definitely were contributors to that win." He looked more insulted than she was. "Here, this one's a lefty, but it's the only one I've brought with me."

"Considering I've never done this before, I'm sure it won't be any more uncomfortable than a righty," Daisy said as she hesitantly took the stick from him.

"You'd be surprised," He said distractedly as he moved closer to show her how to hold it. "Like holding a gun, the v of your hand is your guide," He explained as he covered her right hand with his own, guiding it into place near the top of the stick. "And, roughly, your forearm's length down is where you want your other hand. Underhand, like this," He had knitted gloves over both his hands, so she almost couldn't tell the difference as he lightly wrapped his left hand around hers.

She knew she was screwed, with his arms around hers like they were. She had wanted to try and keep this meeting as professional as possible, but she should have known better. She'd been fighting off thoughts of him for months (for a lot longer than that, if she were honest), and his chest pressed against her back felt way too nice.

"When you're moving the puck around, you want to kind of cup the blade over it, like this," He twisted his right hand over hers, guiding her to turn the blade. "You have more control that way." Together, they moved the puck slowly back and forth a few times, and she found herself smiling. He helped her guide the puck to their left, and stopped it before it slid too far away. "And the same with most other things, follow through." He pulled their left hands back and forward, overtop the puck, so she could get a feel of the motion, and then he let go of her. "Try it," He encouraged, and she glanced up at him to catch the joyful expression on his face. Concentrating on the net in front of her, she repeated his movement, and was surprised by the amount of satisfaction she felt at the noise of the stick hitting the puck. It wobbled a bit through the air, hitting the side post, but bouncing into the net.

"Hey!" She turned to look at Coulson, grinning, and he was smiling warmly back at her. "Can I try again?" She asked, and he nodded.

"Of course," he gestured to their feet, "we've got plenty here to hit around."

"Can you... help me aim better?" Daisy asked, a little aloof, and his eyebrow twitched in suspicion, but he nodded again and moved closer to her.

"Loosen your grip just a little, let me guide you," he murmured over her shoulder as they pulled another puck separate from the pile. She bit her lip to keep from smiling too much as they moved together. So, sue her, she would take what she could get.

She was a bit surprised when she realized there were only a few pucks left near them, the rest scattered in and around the net. She must have been here for more than an hour, at least.

"I, uh, think I should go, Mack will be worried," Daisy said suddenly, letting go of the stick and forcing Coulson to hold onto it and slide back from her. He looked disappointed, but nodded, and gestured toward the gate. He was obviously pondering something, but kept quiet as he watched her step over to a chair and sit to unlace her skates. He didn't speak until she had almost finished tying her boots,

"Can you call him?" He asked, and she looked up in surprise. He shifted uncomfortably. "I mean, just check in, let him know you're okay. I'd like to, um, I'd like to catch up some more. Maybe have dinner?"

Of course she wasn't going to say no to that.

 

  **< ><><>**

 

Daisy followed him to his safe house, surprised to see how well Lola was handling on the snow dusted roads. She was in good shape, too. Even when he hadn't been taking care of himself, it was obvious he hadn't let his car go to waste.

She was a bit suspicious when they pulled into an old neighborhood, but figured this was an older safe house built more for agents on their downtime than super-spies or superheroes hiding from the government. He pulled Lola inside the garage, and left the door open as Daisy parked behind him in the driveway, walking into the house through the garage.

He set his skates and stick against the wall near the interior door, and she curiously looked around at all the old boxes as he closed the garage door. He led her inside, and she stepped past him through a small laundry area and into the kitchen. She trailed her fingers along the worn table as she peered out the bay window.

"Make yourself at home, look around if you'd like. I'll get started on dinner. Beef stew okay?" Coulson spoke as he slipped off his winter clothing, revealing a soft-looking grey sweater beneath. He hung everything up on hooks in the laundry room, and she nodded, pausing to slip off her jacket and hat as well. She hung them up next to Coulson's as he moved into the kitchen and started rummaging around. He moved around with ease, familiar with the space around him, and she watched him for a few moments before she took up his suggestion to poke around.

She discovered the hall bathroom and the dining room before reaching the living room, and that was when it finally hit her.

"I'm an idiot." She muttered to herself, turning back to look at Coulson again as he started cutting up cubes of beef. Of course he looked at home here.

She spied a picture on the mantel place and carefully took it down to look at it closer, smiling to herself. He looked younger than ten, wrapped up in a large towel as if it were a cape.

"My _God_ , Coulson," She exclaimed, looking up at him. He smiled wryly when he saw what photo she was holding.

"I had more hair back then," he mused.

"You were the _cutest_ ," she insisted, holding the photo up as if he hadn't seen it before. He blushed and his smile widened a bit before he ducked his head again. She quietly cleared her throat and replaced the photo, careful to put it back exactly how it had been. "So this, uh, isn't exactly a 'safe house', is it," she figured, meandering around to look at the other photos in the room.

"After Mom died, Director Fury promised to continue paying for the electricity and everything... He told me he wanted me to know that I would always have a place to return to. It's listed as a safe house in the Toolbox, to account for costs I suppose, but if anyone has actually used it as a safe house I wouldn't know. Nothing is missing or out of place." He shrugged, and for probably the first time Daisy felt a surge of fondness for the old Director. For all his aloofness and disinterested expressions, he clearly cared about Coulson.

"Mack still doesn't know exactly where I am, I could leave before he gets a lock on the position - so you don't have to," Daisy started, and Coulson shook his head.

"I told you, I wouldn't have asked you here if I wasn't ready to take the risk of having to leave afterward." He gave her a small smile, and she slowly slid into a seat at the kitchen table so she could be closer as she watched him prepare dinner.

"What was her name? Your mom." Daisy wondered, and Coulson's smile widened.

"Julie. She was... You two would have gotten along well."

"I wish I could have met her." Daisy said honestly, and he did that little shrug again, as if to say 'it is what it is', before turning back toward the counter.

"Me, too," he agreed quietly. They were silent for a minute as she watched him prepare the pan on the stove, and he broke it with an amused chuckle. "She used to call me 'Phillip James' whenever I was in trouble."

Daisy snorted.

"Hey, why don't I run out and grab some wine for us? This is kind of a celebration, isn't it?" She suggested, and he gave her a curious nod.

"Yeah? ... Yeah, sure, that would be great." He agreed. "Get some red?"

"Sure," She grinned at him, going to put on her jacket. "I'll be back in ten," she assured him, and he nodded, though she could tell he was trying to hide apprehension. He wasn't certain that she _would_ be back.

She was, of course- in eight minutes - and she disabled the tracker in her SUV while she was out. Mack would be fussy about having to fix it, but Coulson's childhood home wasn't even listed in his file, and she was going to do her best to keep his secret for him.

After dinner (and a bottle and a half of wine), Coulson stood and gestured out of the room.

"I wanna show you something," he announced, and she followed curiously. When he started to lead her up the stairs, she laughed,

"This better not be you trying to take me to bed, because I _know_ you're a whole lot smoother than that." He frowned at her as if she'd insulted him.

"Of course I'm not - sheesh, just come on." Still chuckling, she followed him up the stairs without hesitation. "Bathroom is straight ahead," he pointed toward each door as he explained, "master room is to the left. This door on the right is the study, could've been another bedroom if.... Down the hall next to the study is my old room. You can sleep there, if you want. The bed is far more comfortable than the couch downstairs, and I've been sleeping in the master room anyway."

"Are you sure?" Daisy asked carefully as she started down the hall. Seeing his childhood home was already so far inside of his personal bubble that she was a little overwhelmed by it; to have dinner and then sleep in his old bedroom? "Is this you telling me you aren't putting walls up between us anymore?" She asked softly, turning around before opening the bedroom door. He smiled gently, and reached around her to open the door.

"This room is right over the garage, so it's larger. I used to think the sloped ceilings were cool." He said, flicking the light switch and standing just inside the room. He gestured for her to step in front of him, and she openly looked around in surprise as she walked in.

"Has this room _changed_ any since high school?" She wondered, doing the math in her head. He probably would have graduated around 1982... which explained the movie posters on the wall. She noticed E.T. and The Empire Strikes Back, immediately. The bed was parallel against the left wall, a dresser by its head that had a few trophies adorning the top.

"Mom put some things out after I joined the Academy, things that reminded her of me, some of her favorites...those trophies weren't always out front and center," Coulson explained, sounding embarrassed as Daisy shifted to look closer at them.

"Did you play anything other than hockey and baseball?" She wondered as she brushed her fingers against the metal. Everything was coated in a layer of dust that told her he hadn't touched anything in here in a while. She glanced up to see him shake his head.

"Not in any leagues. Played football for fun sometimes." He grimaced. "Sorry everything is dusty up here. I have fresh linens for the bed in the hall closet."

"It's okay," Daisy looked around at the rest of the room, and smiled, "I like it. Ohhh, are those records?" She got excited when she spied the crate he was standing in front of, and he gave her room to stand next to him as they both fingered through the collection. "The Beatles, David Bowie, Grand Funk, Bad Company, aha ha ELO, awesome," Daisy murmured, and Coulson glanced to the side to watch her. "Steve Miller... there's a lot of rock in here, Coulson. I would've expected all Nat King Cole, Smokey Robinson, Aretha Franklin." She teased.

"These were top songs back then," he protested, "and, anyway, a lot of my records are hidden around here somewhere..." Daisy leaned back and looked at him in surprise.

"Don't tell me _Phillip James_ hid contraband under his bed!" She admonished, and they both laughed. Okay, maybe they had a little too much wine.

"No, my _mother_ hid them," he corrected her, "I went through a bit of a punk phase in high school. She didn't approve." Daisy just stared at him, and he frowned. "What?"

"Shh, quiet. I'm trying to imagine _Agent Coulson: Punk Rocker_." She gestured her hands in front of her as if she were reading a marquee, and he rolled his eyes.

"Come on, this wasn't what I wanted to show you," he lightly took her elbow and led her to the large window at the end of the room. "She always threatened to nail this thing shut every time, but," He knelt down to pull open the window, smiling as it lifted with only a little effort, "she never did get around to it. Come on." He climbed out onto the roof, and Daisy raised her eyebrow but followed him out.

It was easy from there to get onto the roof over the main part of the house, and he patted the shingles next to him as he settled down with a sigh. She sat down right against him, a little wary being up this high while she was buzzed from alcohol. It was also colder out now that the sun had set, and her sweater would only do so much.

"Mom says ever since I was 9, this was the place to find me if I was missing on a clear night." Coulson told her as he lay back, curling his arm underneath his head. Daisy looked up and sucked in a breath, immediately understanding why. She'd never seen, other than outside the Bus window while they were in the air, this many stars in the sky. She lay back next to him, still in wonder. It was almost difficult to distinguish the usual familiar constellations because there were so many other stars.

"It always fascinated me," He said quietly, not wanting to disrupt her, "and being back here now...after everything, being back here reminded me why I considered SHIELD in the first place."

She turned her head to look at him, realizing that they were close enough that their noses would probably touch if he turned to look at her at the same time.

"I wanted to study the stars. Turns out my skills with people were far more helpful to them. Still met some aliens, I guess." The somber mood suddenly lightened with his laughter, and she smirked despite herself.

"I'm not sure that's something you should laugh about, Phil," she admonished softly, and he pursed his lips, hesitating before replying,

"Well, it brought me you, anyway." She blinked in surprise. He'd said that as if it were better than his childhood dreams, better than studying the stars. He looked at her and, yes, their noses brushed, "More beautiful than anything," he trailed off as if he didn't have the words he wanted, and Daisy swallowed hard.

"Wow." She whispered. He blinked at her, his eyes suddenly open and clear and revealing _everything_. "Take it easy, charm school, I'm two stories up and I've had a lot of wine," She joked nervously, and he smiled widely.

"So, should I not kiss you right now, then?" He asked seriously, and she reached for the front of his shirt as she turned on her side, twisting her fingers around the fabric.

"No, no, you should definitely kiss me _right now_ ," she practically ordered him, and he chuckled as he rolled onto his side and placed his other hand against her cheek.

"Yes, ma'am," he murmured before kissing her deeply. She hummed against him and shifted closer, seeking out his warmth. He tangled their legs together and slid his hand back into her hair, and _damn_ he was even better at this than she had imagined.

They made out leisurely for a while, until Daisy slid her hand up under his shirt and he suggested they go back inside.

"Some long con," Daisy commented as Coulson shut the window after they'd crawled back into the bedroom. He raised his eyebrow at her, and she folded her arms across her chest, though her smile gave away that she wasn't actually angry. "I called you out on it first thing and I _still_ took it hook, line, sinker." She added, and he protested.

"I promise that wasn't my intention when I asked you to come here. I just...I wanted to show you," he gestured around them, and she stepped close to him.

"It worked, didn't it?" She replied, sliding her hand over the front of his shirt and up around the back of his neck.

"This is me telling you I don't want to keep putting walls up between us anymore," he furrowed his brow, and with her other hand she pressed her fingers against the wrinkles on his forehead, smoothing them out.

"This is me agreeing," she assured him, kissing him softly. He hesitated a moment before returning the kiss, resting his hands carefully on her waist.

Before it could get too heavy again, she tilted her head away and set her hands against his chest.

"Maybe we should wait. Talk in the morning. I don't want to... We haven't seen each other in a long time, and we've both had enough to drink to be a little buzzed. I think we should give it a night." Hesitatingly, he nodded and stepped back, allowing his hands to fall from her body. She grabbed his hand and gave it a squeeze before he could leave the room.

"I won't leave." She promised him, and he nodded, seeming to relax more.

"I'll go get the clean sheets for the bed," He told her, and he was almost out of the room when she called out,

"And maybe an extra pair of sweats if you have them? I didn't plan to bring a change of clothes."

"Sure," his reply sounded a bit off, and she grinned a little as she realized he was probably enjoying the image of her in his clothes. When he brought everything into the room and set it on the bed, he pressed a kiss against her temple, squeezing her hand again. She smiled warmly at him, and they bid one another goodnight before he shut the door after him.

After she had changed her clothes and the bedsheets, she snuggled in and breathed deeply, feeling like she was relaxing for the first time in many, many months.

 

  **< ><><>**

 

When she awoke, sunlight was just starting to warm the room, and she glanced at her phone to see that it was almost six o'clock. Bleary-eyed and barefoot, she tiptoed out of the room and across the hardwood floor toward the master bedroom. It was cold, but more important than that, she'd had her mind decided about Coulson for months. She really didn't need the night to make sure, but she knew Coulson would, even if he hadn't thought so himself.

The door was silent as she eased it open, peering into the room. The king sized bed took up most of the room, centered against the wall opposite the door. She bit her lip to keep quiet as she closed the door behind her, leaning against it a moment as she looked at him.

He was sprawled on his stomach, taking up the middle of the bed, snoring lightly. She wished she had her phone, but then she remembered no one knew she was here with him, and Mack would _not_ appreciate receiving such a photo. Swallowing down her amusement, she approached the bed carefully, momentarily concerned about how he would react to being woken up. Throwing caution to the wind, she eased onto the edge of the bed, lying down slowly so she wouldn't jar him. He sniffed and frowned for a moment, waking up slowly, fighting it. She thought it was adorable.

"Skye?" He murmured, rolling on to his side to face her, eyes still closed. She snorted, covering her mouth with one hand and resting the other against his chest. He squinted his eyes open, looking a bit confused as she slipped beneath the covers next to him.

"I'm cold," she whispered, touching her toes against his bare shin. He yelped, eyes now wide open, and she smiled innocently.

"Daisy," he breathed, sounding worried, embarrassed, and uncertain, all at once.

"Good morning," She said a bit shyly, which she then thought was dumb considering _she_ was the one who got into his bed. His gaze softened, and he trailed his fingers through her hair.

"Good morning," he said back, and they just laid there smiling at one another for a while.

Her toes were still pressed against his leg, and he shifted a bit so his knee was curled between hers.

"Is this you saying you don't want walls between us?" He teased, and she slipped her hand underneath his tee.

"I don't want _anything_ between us," She told him, and his stomach jumped against her hand as he sucked in a breath. "That was me trying to be all charm school about wanting to take your clothes off," She explained, and he nodded as he reached for her.

"Yeah I got that," he said breathlessly, kissing her.


End file.
